The hallway trembled under the crackling energy that radiated from Max. Every step he took scorched the floor beneath him. Sparks arced from the walls, leaving black scorch marks that hissed as the residual electricity dissipated. Nightwing groaned where he'd fallen, fingers twitching as if trying to reconnect with his own strength. Alex's chest heaved beneath his suit, spider-sense screaming, every nerve tingling with danger and fear.
"Max," Alex called, trying to keep his voice calm. "You don't have to do this. We can fix this together!"
Max's grin widened, jagged and wild. "Together? You think I need fixing, Spider-Kid? I've never felt more alive! More…in control." He raised his arms, lightning dancing across his fingertips like living snakes.
Alex fired a web at the floor, yanking a chunk of concrete up to create a temporary barrier. "This isn't control, Max! This is chaos! You'll hurt yourself, and everyone else!"
"Relax," Max hissed, eyes glowing. "I've got it. I'm in charge. Finally."
But Alex could see the tremor in his hands, the way his grin flickered just for a heartbeat. Max wasn't in control at all.
Alex leapt forward, aiming to web Max's hands together, but the electricity snapped up from the floor, meeting him midair. Sparks struck his mask, and the metal of his new suit sizzled, forcing him to roll to the side. "Okay…bad idea," Alex muttered under his breath.
"Too soft, Spider," Max taunted, shooting a bolt of lightning that smashed into a nearby wall. Concrete and metal exploded outward, sending shards flying. Alex flipped through the debris, narrowly dodging, then shot webs at a ceiling beam. He swung, flipping over Max, trying to get behind him. "Max, listen to me! I'm not your enemy!"
Max pivoted in the air, spinning with inhuman speed. "Then why do you always try to stop me? Always the same speech, the same guilt!" He lunged, fists glowing with blue-white energy. "This ends now!"
Alex ducked and rolled, firing webs to the far wall to give himself room. His mind raced. Max was dangerous, more than anyone he'd faced. But this wasn't just a fight. It was a chance to save his friend. I can't fail him like I did before, Alex thought, remembering the last time he lost someone close.
The fight spilled into the courtyard. Rain slicked the ground, reflecting the flashes of electricity. Alex landed lightly, crouching, eyes scanning. Max charged, arcs of power dancing along his body, each step leaving scorch marks on the stone.
Alex fired a web at Max's feet, trying to trip him. The web wrapped around, and for a moment, Max stumbled. "Gotcha," Alex whispered, swinging to strike but Max shot a bolt, shattering the web and sending Alex skidding across the wet concrete.
"You're trying to hold back," Max growled, snapping his fingers. Lightning shot into the puddles beneath Alex, forcing him to leap over the arcs. "I can see it. You're scared to hurt me. You should be."
Alex's chest tightened. "Scared? Maybe. But you're my friend, Max! I won't let you destroy yourself for some…some stupid revenge against the world!"
Max roared, lifting a hand and sending a massive bolt into the air. It struck a nearby lamppost, sending sparks raining down. "Friends?" Max spat the word like venom. "You don't know what it's like to feel powerless, Spider-Man! I was nothing before this look at me! I'm alive!"
Alex's fingers itched for the perfect web line. "You're alive, Max, but that doesn't mean you have to hurt everyone else! We can fix this…you don't have to die to feel powerful!"
Max hesitated just a fraction. That hesitation gave Alex the opening he needed. He swung low, aiming a web at Max's chest, but the electric field deflected it. The strike hit a metal railing, which exploded outward, throwing Alex backward. He landed hard on the ground, scraping his arm.
"Spider-Man!" Max shouted, voice twisting with a mixture of anger and fear. "Stop trying to save me!"
Alex groaned, pushing himself up, determination burning in his eyes. "No! You're my friend, Max! I've got your back, whether you like it or not!"
They clashed again, Max firing arcs of electricity, Alex weaving and flipping with impossible agility. He used the environment, swinging on broken beams, vaulting off walls, webbing chunks of debris as shields. Every attack Max launched, Alex countered with precision, always careful not to land a lethal blow but still striking with enough force to slow him.
"You're holding back again!" Max yelled, snapping another bolt that tore a chunk of pavement into the air. "Do you even realize what this feels like? You think I want this? I can't control it!"
Alex stumbled, landing near the edge of the substation, eyes widening as he realized Max was edging toward the main power conduit. "No! Max, don't stay back! That's too much for you to handle!"
But Max ignored him. He raised his hands toward the substation, electric arcs crawling up the metal pylons, connecting to the main grid. "Just watch!" he screamed. "Watch what happens when I take it all!"
Alex's stomach sank. He lunged forward, webs shooting out, trying to bind Max but the energy was too powerful, deflecting every attempt. "Max! Please! This isn't you!"
Max's eyes flickered with something vulnerable for a second. Alex took it as a sign, firing webbing around Max's arms, trying to slow him down. "You can come back from this! I can help!"
Max gritted his teeth. "It's…too late."
The electricity surged wildly. Sparks danced in the air like lightning storms in miniature. The substation began to overload. Alex ducked under a massive arc that tore through the air above him, feeling the heat singe his suit. His legs slipped on wet concrete as another bolt struck the ground inches from him, sending him sprawling.
"Max! I'm not losing you again!" Alex yelled, scrambling to his feet, swinging higher to try and web Max's feet to the pylons. But Max raised his hands again, pulling raw energy from the station like a magnet.
Alex's spider-sense screamed red alerts. "You can't handle it!" he shouted, diving forward. "It's too much for you!"
The electricity wrapped around Max's body, brighter, uncontrollable. He screamed, voice cracking, but Alex couldn't reach him in time. The air shimmered and then the world exploded in a white-blue flash. Alex was thrown back, hitting the wet asphalt hard. His vision swam with sparks. The substation blew apart in a shower of blue-white fire, waves of energy scattering in all directions.
When the smoke cleared, silence fell over the wreckage. Alex coughed, crawling forward through dust and debris. His chest ached, muscles burned, and his suit was scorched in patches.
And there, where Max had been, nothing remained only a faint scorch mark on the asphalt and the lingering smell of ozone.
Alex sank to his knees, shaking. "Max…" His voice cracked. "I…I tried… I tried to save you…"
A small, fluttering piece of paper drifted from the wreckage. Alex grabbed it, heart sinking, and unfolded it. It was a photo of him swinging through Gotham, captured mid-motion. He takes his mask off and a single tear ran down his cheek as he clutched it.
"Max…you…you were my friend…"
He heard a soft shuffle behind him. Turning, he saw Cass, Steph, and Nightwing staggering toward him, bruised, bleeding, but alive. Cass's eyes met his, and she ran forward, pulling him into a fierce hug.
Alex's tears spilled freely now, and she held him tightly. "We're okay," she said softly, signing some words against his shoulder that he felt more than saw: He wouldn't want you to give up.
Alex nodded against her shoulder, voice barely a whisper. "I… I know. But it still hurts."
Steph limped forward, elbowing him lightly. "Hey, stop crying in front of us. You'll ruin your hero rep." She offered a shaky grin.
Nightwing stood a little farther off, watching Alex carefully. "You did everything you could, Alex. That's all anyone could ask of you."
Alex swallowed hard, letting the grief and guilt wash over him. He leans more into Cass arms and cries.
3 Days Later
/.
The rain fell in slow, steady sheets, drumming against the black marble headstone and soaking the grass of the small, secluded cemetery. The clouds hung low over Gotham, heavy and gray, hiding the sun and turning the world into a muted palette of sorrow. Alex knelt in front of the freshly dug grave, his palms pressing against the cold, damp soil. The name etched in the stone glinted faintly beneath the water: Max Dillon.
He could still see Max's face in his mind with the glasses crooked after the truck, the nervous smile, the way he had clutched the blueprints like they were a lifeline. Alex's hands clenched. "I… I tried, Max," he whispered. His voice cracked, barely audible over the rain. "I tried so hard, but it wasn't enough. I… I should have stopped him."
The memory hit like a punch to the chest.
The truck careening toward Max, the screech of tires, the way he had leapt off, swinging low, snatching Max from death by the smallest margin. The look of relief on Max's face haunted him now.
"I was supposed to save you," he murmured, tears sliding down his cheeks, dripping onto the grass. "I… I promised you, and I failed. I failed…"
From the corner of his vision, he noticed movement and Bruce Wayne emerged from the line of cypresses, umbrella closed despite the downpour, his tailored suit and tie soaked but impeccably pressed. The older man's hands were folded, his expression unreadable, though the faint lines on his face spoke of years of burden and loss. Alex felt a flicker of relief and shame at the same time. He wasn't alone, but he had hoped to be left alone with his grief.
"Alex." Bruce's voice was steady, deep, carrying the weight of authority but also of empathy. "I know this hurts."
Alex bowed his head, hiding his face from the man he had come to see not just as a mentor, but almost a father figure. "He… he trusted me. I told him I'd keep him safe. And I couldn't." His hands shook, gripping the damp grass. "I couldn't."
Bruce stepped closer, boots pressing into the mud, and knelt beside him. The two men were silent for a moment, listening to the rain and the muted rustle of leaves. Then Bruce spoke, softly:
"Max… he wasn't just another life lost to the streets. He was someone you saved before. Remember that day?"
Alex flinched, nodding. He could still see the scene clearly: Max carrying blueprints too big for him, the truck barreling toward him, Alex swinging in like some ridiculous webbed guardian. The laugh that Max had given, nervous but genuine, when Alex had saved him.
"The guy was a nobody in his own mind," Alex whispered, voice breaking. "And I told him… I told him he was a somebody. And now…" He choked, unable to finish.
Bruce placed a firm hand on Alex's shoulder, strong but gentle. "And he was a somebody. A person who mattered, who touched your life, and who you gave a moment of safety he would never have had otherwise. That is what matters, Alex. Not that you couldn't stop the world's chaos because you can't but that you stood there, ready to try, willing to risk yourself. That counts."
Alex's chest heaved with sobs, head pressed against the wet marble. "I just… I promised him. I promised Max I'd save him…"
"You did," Bruce said firmly. "For that brief moment, you did save him. And you saved countless others since. Don't let your grief blind you to what you are capable of. Don't let it tell you that a single failure defines you."
Alex wiped his tears with the back of his gloved hand. "I… I know. But it feels like everything is my fault. I should've seen the danger sooner, I should've… I should've….."
"Alex," Bruce interrupted, voice soft but sharp, "you are not perfect. No one is. But what you can do is keep moving forward. You can honor Max by being the hero he needed. Every life you save, every person you protect that's how you repay him. And you will. I know you will."
Ale took a shuddering breath, the words sinking in but not quite lifting the weight from his chest. He stared down at Max's grave, rain running in rivulets over the stone. He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar hum of his powers beneath the wet suit. A quiet determination coiled in his chest, fierce and resolute.
"I… I promise," he said, voice firm despite the tears. "No matter who it is… no matter where they are… I will save them. I won't let anyone else fall if I can stop it. Not again."
Bruce's eyes softened, just for a moment, before the mask of stern mentorship returned. He placed a hand on Alex's shoulder one last time. "That is all anyone can ask of you, Alex. Remember it. Carry it with you."
Alex nodded, swallowing hard, lifting his head to finally meet Bruce's gaze. There was pride there, tempered with the knowledge of the harsh reality of their world. "I will. I swear it."
Bruce gave a small nod, as though sealing a silent pact, and stepped back. "Then go. Live up to it."
Alex remained kneeling a moment longer, staring at the grave, letting the rain wash over him. The sky above hadn't cleared, but the weight in his chest felt lighter, tempered by the resolve that now anchored him. He rose slowly, turning back to see the sprawling city beyond the cemetery, each building a challenge, each alley a place where people needed him.
The rain fell like a curtain between grief and purpose. And as Alex walked away from the grave, his heart heavy but resolute, he whispered once more, barely audible, "I'll save them. Every single one. I swear."
The wind shifted, rustling the wet grass and the leaves of the nearby trees. For a brief moment, Alex felt Max's presence but not as a shadow but as a reminder. Someone had believed in him once. Someone had trusted him. And that trust, fragile and fleeting though it had been, was enough to light the path forward.
And he would not falter again.
Timeskip
The taxi ride home was quiet. Alex stared out the rain-spattered window, watching Gotham's familiar skyline blur past. Neon signs flickered, streetlights glimmered, and puddles reflected the orange glow of traffic lights. He felt numb, the weight of Max's grave still pressing on his chest, even as Bruce's words echoed in his mind: "Honor him by being the hero he needed."
By the time he reached his apartment, the clouds had parted slightly, but the drizzle continued, clinging to the city in a gray, soggy embrace. The door creaked as Alex stepped inside, damp boots leaving little puddles on the tile.
"Alex! Thank goodness you're home!"
His mother emerged from the living room, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back in a messy bun, but her smile was bright. Boxes were stacked high, carefully labeled: Kitchen, Clothes, Books, Fragile. Alex's eyes darted from her to the boxes and back.
"Uh… what's with all the… boxes?" he asked, tilting his head.
She grinned, setting down a box of old dishes. "Oh, well… I got a new job!" she announced. "A really amazing opportunity. And, well…" She gestured to the dozens of boxes. "…we're moving!"
Alex froze. He blinked. Blinked again. "…Moving?" His voice cracked, disbelief etched into every syllable. "You mean, like… leaving Gotham? Leaving… everything?"
She nodded, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yes! A fresh start. A new city. New opportunities. You know, the whole 'let's leave the chaos behind' plan."
Alex ran a hand through his hair, trying to process. "Okay… I mean… that's… wow. That's big." He glanced at the labeled boxes. "So, uh… which city exactly?"
She pulled a poster from the top of a pile, waving it like a flag. "New York City!"
Alex's jaw literally dropped. "Oh shit!!!"
Author Note: That's the end of Arc 1: The Orgins. Hope y'all enjoy. Now we will be heading to New York for a new beginning for Alex. Tell me what villains or heroes You want to see in New York.